His
Hands
By Quickening
The storm came
up out of nowhere, its arrival heralded by an ear-splitting crack of thunder
and a sudden, torrential downpour of water that could have put the
Of course, Kagome
and Inuyasha were the only two unlucky enough to be caught out in the middle of
the wilderness when it arrived; it had come up too quickly for even Inuyasha’s
keen senses to notice before it was already upon them. The best thing they could do was scramble
madly for the nearest shelter they could find…which happened to be a very
shallow, cold, and damp cave that at one point might have been inhabited by a
family of very smelly boars. Inuyasha
might’ve almost preferred braving the storm in search of more suitable shelter
rather than deal with the smell; they were soaked through, anyway, and while
his fire-rat haori was fireproof, it wasn’t all that
waterproof. But a particularly nasty
bolt of lightning striking a tree only feet from where he stood quickly put an
end to that particular idea. After all,
crispy-fried dog smelled worse than month-old boar did. And it felt
a hell of a lot worse, to boot.
So, huddled in
the very back of the cave, watching the puddle of water that had formed at the
entrance creep ever-so-ominously toward them, there was nothing really for the
two would-be shard hunters to do…except for the one thing that they did best of
all.
They
bickered. Sort of.
“This is all
your fault you know,” Kagome began grumpily as she sought to tug her short
skirt down over her freezing legs; a futile task, at best. “If you hadn’t insisted we go off right now to look for that stupid shard
I sensed…”
“Keh,” was his only reply.
Apparently, even the almighty Inuyasha was too dispirited and wet to
argue with her today. Besides, she was
right. Right then, he’d have given
anything to be back in Kaede’s hut sipping hot tea (or even better, scarfing
hot ramen), and watch Sango whack Miroku over the head whenever he tried to
grope her, and maybe even listen to Kagome tell the kitsune brat a story if she
felt so inclined. Of course, he’d glomp Sesshoumaru before he’d ever admit to any of that, but he still wished it.
A heavy sigh
from Kagome brought him out of his wishful thinking, and he snuck a quick
glance down at the girl huddled against the wall beside him. She was all hunched up and shivering, and he
realized suddenly that the temperature had dropped a little, with the coming of
the storm and all. Plus, she was wearing
a lot less in the way of clothing, and the material of her strange kimono was
much flimsier than his heavy clothing, so she was soaked through to the
skin. He frowned, trying his hardest not
to show his concern. But he really
didn’t want her getting sick again, like she had before. “Hey.
Are you cold?” he asked gruffly, if not a bit awkwardly.
Kagome shot him
a look that clearly stated, “Well, duh!”
but otherwise didn’t respond. Clearly
she wasn’t in a very forgiving mood at the moment, and he cringed a bit,
deciding that he’d best tread cautiously, lest he wind up kissing dirt a few
(dozen) times. He cleared his
throat. Then, in his best
“I’m-offering-just-to-be-nice-but-I-don’t-really-give-a-crap” voice, stated,
“You can sit here until you dry off and warm up a bit.”
Kagome blinked
and looked up at him, clearly wondering exactly where “here” meant. Then she blanched when she saw him patting
the ground just in front of him; obviously, “here” meant sitting right between
his crossed legs, and the poor girl nearly had a nosebleed at the thought
before she managed to get herself under control. “I-I can’t do that!” she squeaked, looking at him as though he’d just asked her
to do a strip tease for him.
“Well, why the
hell not?” he growled out, his ears flattening in displeasure at the note of
panic in her voice. For pity’s sake, one
would think he’d just asked her to bear his child or something, the way she was
reacting! Keh! See what trying to be nice gets you? Still, her shivering hadn’t stopped and for
once, he was more concerned for her health than his pride, no matter how much
it stung at the moment. He scowled. “Look, it ain’t
like anyone’s around to watch,” he muttered, “and I know I’m warmer than that
wall is. I’m already almost dry.”
That was true; he’d
violently shaken the water from his body—in a rather amusing impression of a
drenched dog—as soon as they’d set foot inside the cave. Which might’ve also accounted for the
slightly-less-than-dry condition of said cave, if truth be told, but that didn’t
really matter much, now did it?
What mattered was that Kagome had apparently
decided that Inuyasha wasn’t going to bite after all, and was currently moving
to settle herself between his bent knees, turning so that her back was facing
him and ducking her head to further hide her burning cheeks under the soft
sweep of her hair. “Um…thanks,” she
mumbled, by way of apology. Still, she
wasn’t entirely comfortable with her
new position, if the way she was sitting ramrod-straight was any
indication. Rolling his eyes—Since when
was Kagome ever so shy around him,
anyway?—Inuyasha reached out to lay a clawed hand on her shoulder and pulled
her back to lean against his chest, where he then proceeded to put her into
cardiac arrest (well, almost) by wrapping his haori
around her, to warm her even further.
That wasn’t
anything new, Kagome desperately tried to reassure herself. She’d worn his haori
plenty of times in the past already.
Same old, same old, right?
Of
course…Inuyasha had never still been in
it during those times…
She had to
admit, though, that she was plenty
warm now. With his chest against her
back, and the haori covering her front, still heated
from his body, and his arms resting at either side of her so that the trailing
sleeves blanketed the upper half of her bare legs, it created a rather cozy
little nest. True, her butt was already
starting to go numb from the packed-dirt floor, but who was she to
complain? He was right; his chest felt a
lot better to lean against than that
cold wall…
Kagome firmly
squashed that thought before it could mutate into anything else, and
proceeded—for lack of anything better to do—to watch the rain that continued to
pour in a gray sheet outside the entrance.
It rather gave her the impression of being trapped behind a waterfall,
and she said as much to Inuyasha, who merely grunted a response.
She rolled her
eyes at his typical lack of manners, but decided that she couldn’t really
begrudge him his mood, considering she felt rather the same way. Although, to be perfectly honest, she was
beginning to feel that perhaps her situation wasn’t quite as dire as she’d
first believed. After all, how often did
she manage to find herself in this rather unique position of having Inuyasha
practically wrapped around her whilst sitting quite comfortably in his
lap? Now that her maidenly embarrassment
was fading, she couldn’t help but think that she rather liked being wrapped up in his haori (with
him still in it), and sitting almost cuddled against his strong chest with her
legs draped rather intimately over his crossed ones beneath her. The soft fur of his hakama tickled the
underside of her thighs, where her skirt had ridden up, and she was hard
pressed to keep her blush at bay. Now…if
only he’d move just a little more and
wrap his arms around her waist instead of just draping them across his
knees. Kagome felt she could then die a
happy woman.
I wonder if Kikyou ever sat like this with him? She asked herself somewhat smugly,
then immediately winced and gave herself a mental smack for thinking bad
thoughts. Kikyou wasn’t all that horrible. The last two or three times they’d met, she
hadn’t even tried to kill anybody. Under
different (much different)
circumstances, Kagome thought she might even like the undead miko. And
she was fair enough to admit that, if she
was the one being forced out of her nice, cozy, reincarnated body to live in a
walking pile of dirt made up of nothing but hate and vengeance, all thanks to
some old hag with too much time on her hands…well, she supposed she’d be just a little disgruntled about
that, too.
Not that it meant she’d give in and let
Kikyou succeed in dragging Inuyasha off to hell with her, of course. Kagome was forgiving, but she wasn’t stupid.
After a few
minutes of silence, Kagome decided that she’d much rather listen to Inuyasha
talk than listen to that incessant rain.
“Hey, ya wanna play
a game?” she questioned eagerly.
“Like what?”
Inuyasha replied, in a rather bored kind of tone that suggested he wasn’t
really as interested as his question led him to be. She chose to ignore it.
“Um…maybe a
guessing game?” she suggested.
“Okay. I spy with my little eye,
something that’s…um…red.”
“Your neck
ribbon,” he replied in the same dull voice.
She
blinked. “How do you know it’s not your
sleeve? Or your pant leg, for that
matter?”
“Too
obvious.” He was beginning to sound like
one of her science teachers, speaking with that monotonous drone.
She sighed. “Okay, fine.
I spy with my little eye something that’s…um…” She looked around for something suitable to
spy, realized that, aside from themselves, the cave was pretty much empty of so
much as a twig, and huffed a defeated sigh.
“Well, it’s a dumb game, anyway,” she grumbled to herself, pouting. Had she been facing him, she would have seen
the small, amused smile tugging at Inuyasha’s lips, flashing a little
fang. But when she turned to look at
him, it was gone already, leaving his usual perpetually bored scowl in its
place.
“Just sit still
and wait for the storm to pass,” he told her lazily. “The thunder’s already fading.”
She slanted him a dry look;
normally it was her telling him to stop fidgeting, not the other way
around. Something was obviously wrong
here. Was he getting sick or something?
The truth was, however, that
Inuyasha was feeling quite comfortable.
In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed and
peaceful, after so many months of charging through the countryside in search of
Naraku and battling one evil, undead psychopath after
another. This was a very different
change of pace and he was rather enjoying it, especially the part of it that
had Kagome sitting so close to him, her soft, warm body relaxed against his own
and her scent—something which he could only describe as “delicious”—surrounding
him in a cloud of soft fragrance. He
felt rather lethargic, listening to the steady splatter of rain against the
ground and the distant roiling of fading thunder, the monotonous sounds creating
a hazy sort of aspect in his drowsy mind.
He was aware, faintly, that Kagome was speaking to him, attempting to
gain his attention. One ear flicked
forward, focused on her sweet voice, but he’d barely uttered a sleepy, “Hrmmph?” before sleep finally laid claim to his senses, and
in another moment, he was dead to the world.
~~~{~@
“Inuyasha?” Kagome felt a twinge of annoyance when the
hanyou continued to ignore her, and she scowled and turned around in
preparation to lecture him on the importance of good manners…again.
Imagine her
surprise when, instead of his usual grumpy scowl, she was greeted by the quiet
and peaceful countenance of one who was deeply asleep, his golden eyes hidden
beneath heavy lids and thick lashes, features lax and sweet as he slumbered on,
oblivious to the world. His head rested
against the wall behind them, tilted a bit to the side, and her frown
immediately softened into a sweet smile as she gazed at him, wondering if he’d
get a crick in his neck for sleeping in that position. He always looked so innocent when he slept
(not that she’d seen that very often
or anything). His face looked so
charming and boyish without his favorite grumpy expression, as though he hadn’t
a care in the world. Completely unlike
the Inuyasha she knew.
She decided that it was his
eyes. She loved his eyes—their color was
so beautiful, holding depth and dimension that normal human eyes just didn’t
have—but they always seemed so sad to her.
Well, at least when they weren’t snapping with anger or burning with the
lust for battle. He wasn’t all that old, was he? The fifty years he spent pinned to that tree
didn’t really count, since he hadn’t aged then, but even before that, he
couldn’t have lived for a horribly long time, not that she’d ever asked him. She wondered if he’d even know. But his eyes, they seemed so ancient, as
though he’d lived long enough to see a hundred lifetimes pass before them, all
of them filled with nothing but pain.
Her expression saddened,
knowing that the life he had lived had never been easy. A reject from society, declared a freak of
nature by both humans and youkai, he’d never been accepted for what he
was. Until now. Her features hardened with determination. Obviously, he was so adamant to become a full
youkai because he never had been
accepted, but she was just as
determined to make him realize that at least one person loved him just the way he was, no matter how stubborn
and thick-headed he was about it. He
didn’t need to be full youkai, full human, full anything for her to accept him, even if she didn’t have a prayer in
heaven of him ever accepting her in return.
Besides, she’d really miss those ears of his.
Smiling at the
whimsical thought, and without thinking twice about it (or even once, for that
matter), Kagome took the opportunity to lean up and press a soft kiss to the
line of his jaw, reaching up to lightly trace a finger along the edge of one of
the softly-furred appendages. It flicked
beneath her touch, making her giggle a little, and in response he stirred
slightly and muttered, and she drew back in fear, prepared to deny the entire
episode if he woke up and started asking questions. But instead of that, she abruptly found that
her earlier wish was being granted, as his arms slid off his knees to wrap in a
slightly more comfortable position loosely around her waist, his wrists resting
against her thighs and his hands dangling downward into her lap. Her eyes widened slightly as her cheeks
turned roughly the hue of a fire engine, but she didn’t try to remove them.
Rather, she
stared at the clawed hands resting against the dark green fabric of her skirt,
examining them with a curious eye. She’d
never really studied his hands before, never having really been given the
opportunity to do so. But now that she
had one, she intended to use it. Besides, she told herself, as though to
defend her next actions, it isn’t like
there’s anything else to stare at in
this miserable cave…
Holding her
breath, she lightly gripped a wrist and drew his hand further into her lap,
holding it lightly between her own as she studied the strong, lean sinews that
chorded the back of it, his veins faint blue lines beneath his lightly-tanned
skin. She trailed her fingers lightly
across the back, feeling the warm, firm flesh gliding beneath her fingertips,
and watched as the fine, white hairs sprinkling it raised slightly and lowered
again in a chill of gooseflesh. She
smiled, realizing that he was slightly ticklish there, something she found
absolutely fascinating, and she wondered where else the hanyou might be ticklish.
Shaking her head to quickly clear that
thought out of it, she turned the appendage over to examine the underside with
the same concentration.
Now here was a study in
contrast, she decided. His fingers were long
and lean, almost slender, actually quite graceful in appearance. In any other life, this would clearly have
been the hand of an artist. In that
other life, she could almost picture Inuyasha standing with a paint brush and
pallet, creating something beautiful on a large canvas, or perhaps seated at a
grand piano composing something equally beautiful in song.
And yet, in sharp contrast
to the elegant shape, his knuckles were thick and rough from the countless punches
he’d thrown in the many brawls he’d gotten into. His fingers and palms were hard and calloused
from wielding Tetsusaiga; even before he’d attained the sword, he’d already
spent most of his life using those hands for fighting and killing, trying to
survive by any means necessary. In place
of thin human fingernails were the sharp, deadly talons of his youkai half,
thick and almost brittle-looking, tough enough to pierce even the thickest
youkai hide or the strongest armor.
This Inuyasha clearly was no artist.
He was an experienced warrior who gloried in the thrill of the fight, of
the hunt and the kill, and yet Kagome tilted her head to one side as she
unabashedly traced one deadly claw with her finger, touching the tip of it,
unafraid. The point wasn’t really all
that sharp, she realized. Not like a
cat’s talon so much as a dog’s toenail.
It was the power, the unbridled strength of Inuyasha’s strikes that made
them so deadly to his foes, but otherwise, they weren’t really anything to
fear. She wondered if they’d be more
deadly were he a full youkai; remembered the destruction he’d left behind
during those times when his blood had taken over his mind, and shuddered,
deciding she’d rather not find out for herself.
Besides, it didn’t really matter.
She loved him, anyway, even at his worst.
So intent was she in her
examination that she nearly went into convulsions when Inuyasha’s chin abruptly
came to rest against her shoulder, his chest heaving against her back in a long
sigh as his warm breath drifted past her neck, tickling a little. She yelped sharply in surprise and jumped,
her heart pounding in her throat as she waited for him to start yelling at her
for taking advantage of him during his moment of weakness. But she realized a moment later that he was
still asleep, when the only thing he did was to sigh again, then turn his face
further in, muttering a little as he nuzzled at her neck. She bit back a little squeak when she felt
him inhale, snuffling the area around her ear like a curious puppy, his breath
warm and moist against her skin. It
tickled like the dickens, and she hunched her shoulder a bit in reaction,
bringing her face down so that his lips brushed softly against the side of her
jaw, unknowingly returning the kiss she’d earlier given him.
Kagome blushed fifty shades
of red and sat there, hardly daring to move as she chewed on her lower lip,
trying not to squirm as he continued to snuffle at her skin. Good grief, if he started licking her or
something she thought she’d have to die on the spot! Eventually, though, he seemed satisfied, and
settled down with another sigh, his chin draped quite comfortably across her
right shoulder, the side of his face in firm contact with hers. His breathing evened out once again, but
Kagome thought that she might never
breathe again. His hair tickled her
cheek and the corner of her eye, and she thought dazedly to herself that the
unkempt mop was so much softer than it looked.
One of these days she’d have to talk him into letting her brush out all
those tangles, and then she’d bet he’d really
be a sight for sore eyes.
Minutes passed, and as
Inuyasha didn’t appear to be waking up, Kagome forced herself to relax again,
her head resting back against his shoulder and slightly against his, her embarrassment
fading beneath the feeling of contentment that slowly flooded her soul. She smiled and closed her eyes, thinking that
the only thing that would make this moment even more perfect would be if
Inuyasha was actually awake to share it with her. Then again, if he was awake, they wouldn’t be
sharing it in the first place. She
sighed gloomily and opened her eyes, once more turning them to the strong hand
lying in her lap, still cradled between her own.
It was so much larger than
hers was, she realized. The hand of a
person who’d worked all his life to achieve his desires, his right to
live. Despite the ancient sadness in his
eyes, Inuyasha’s face still seemed so much like a boy just entering into his
adult years, but his hands—and the
rest of him, she recalled with a blush as the memory of a soaked and naked
hanyou barging haphazardly into her bedroom came to the fore of her mind—were
indeed those of a grown man. Curiously,
she spread his palm flat, facing upward, so she could spread her fingers against
his, pressing their palms together so as to compare sizes. As she’d suspected, his hand dwarfed hers;
the tips of her nails barely touched midway between his first and second
knuckles, and she smiled at the sight.
When his fingers suddenly
shifted and threaded themselves between hers to close tightly yet gently over
her palm, she barely held back another startled yelp. “He’s still asleep. Relax,” she muttered to herself, attempting
to withdraw her hand from his firm grip.
He didn’t let go.
“Do you find something
particularly interesting about my hand, or are you just bored to tears?” came
the low, slightly amused growl in her ear, and this time Kagome did yelp in
surprise.
“O-oh…you…you’re awake,” she
stammered, blushing madly as she struggled futilely to free herself from his
grasp. “Um…I was just…uh…that is…see, I
was curious about…um…how big your hand
was compared to mine and…er…yeah…” She trailed off into a defeated mumble and
refused to look at him, her cheeks burning so hotly that even he could feel the blush, his face still
being so close to her own as it was. Why
oh why hadn’t she noticed that he’d
woken up?! She was sure to never hear the end of it, now!
But rather than breaking out
with the ridicule as he was normally prone to do, Inuyasha simply stared down
at their joined hands, then slowly spread his palm again until her fingers
rested limply against his own. She was
still in shock, so therefore didn’t even think to snatch it away, but he was
perfectly okay with that. He rather liked
the way his hand seemed to dwarf the delicate palm that rested warmly against
his own. Compared to his ugly, calloused
fingers, hers were smooth and pale and soft, the hand of a well-bred lady,
perhaps that of a princess.
Suddenly feeling self-conscious,
he let his palm fall from beneath hers, resting it limply on his knee
again. “Dunno
why you’d wanna stare at something like that,
anyhow,” he muttered, fighting back a blush as he realized that his other hand
had draped itself quite comfortably across her lap, hanging downward almost
between her thighs despite the skirt separating her flesh from his. He gulped and hastily removed the offending
limb, wondering why she hadn’t sat him into the ground yet, even if he had been asleep during its apparent
relocation.
Kagome seemed to sense his
unease, turning her face to look at him.
He remembered suddenly just how close their faces actually were when her lips brushed across his
cheek with the delicacy of a butterfly’s wing, and he jerked his head up in surprise,
golden eyes wide. Kagome dropped her
gaze again, muttering a sheepish apology as the blush darkened in her
cheeks. “S-so why were you lookin’ at my hands?” he stammered out, trying to get his
breathing back under control. But it was
so hard when she looked at him like that, when her scent was so enticing, when
she was so soft and warm cuddled up to him as she was.
Biting the inside of her
lip, Kagome pondered what to tell him.
Seeing the distress on his face that he was clearly trying to hide,
sensing that he was more self-conscious about her scrutiny than he’d ever
admit, she smiled gently and once again picked up his hand between her
own. “I was just thinking to myself,”
she began shyly, “how much I like your hands, Inuyasha.”
He jerked in surprise and
stared at her with wide, childish eyes.
“Y-you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he choked out,
clearly disbelieving of her statement.
She shook her head
resolutely. “No, it’s true,” she
insisted. “I like your hands. I like that they’re bigger than mine. I like that they’re so capable of defending
you when you’re in danger. I like that
they’ve defended me when I’m in
danger. I like that they’re so
strong…and yet when you need them to be they’re so gentle, too. They show your true character, Inuyasha,
better than anything else.”
He stammered for a bit,
trying to come up with some kind of retort, or an insult, or even just a
denial, but she’d shocked him nearly speechless. And that angered him, that she could fluster
him so easily with just a few kind words.
“They’re the hands of a monster!”
he snapped out, snatching his fingers from her grasp and baring his claws at
her, fingers crooked and so tense that the tendons stretched at his skin. “They’re the hands that have slaughtered
hundreds of people and not shown a moment’s regret. They’re the hands that could one day turn on you, slaughter you! Would you like ‘em then, when they’re ripping your heart outta your body?!
You should be afraid of what they could do to you…of what I could do to you! You should hate these hands!”
But instead of being afraid,
instead of getting angry as he’d wanted her to, Kagome merely took his clawed
fingers between her own once more and held on tight, turning her earnest,
honest gaze to meet his own. “Maybe
that’s true…but how can I be afraid of or hate something that always makes me
feel so safe?” she questioned softly.
His eyes widened, and she dropped her gaze, embarrassed at the
astonishment she saw written clearly in his features. “They’re not the hands of a monster, they’re
the hands of Inuyasha, who always makes me feel safe, no matter what’s going
on. You always say that you want to
change who you are, become stronger, but…I like you just how you are. When you hold me…like you’re doing now…I…I
feel like there’s nothing in the world that could ever hurt me again. I feel…invincible. I don’t see how anyone could be stronger than
that.”
“K-Kagome…” he breathed,
feeling a fine trembling start in his limbs as her heartfelt words wrapped
around his heart and settled deep into his soul. Nobody had ever, ever said anything like that to him before, and he could hardly
believe how hearing them now soothed the deep ache of loneliness that had
become so much a part of him, he barely acknowledged its existence
anymore. When Kagome’s arms wrapped
about his waist, slipping around him beneath the fire-rat haori,
he didn’t protest or shove her away.
Rather, he drew his own arms slowly about her in a full embrace,
lowering his face to hide it against her neck as she pressed her own face into
his warm, bare chest where the hem of his inner kimono parted in a deep V.
“I love you, Inuyasha…” he
faintly heard her murmur, her lips brushing softly against his skin, sending a
small shiver of desire trembling through his body. He opened his lips, wanting more than
anything to return the dear sentiment, but something stilled his words. Whether it was his pride, or the reminiscence
of another girl who forever hovered in the back of his mind, he wasn’t sure,
but he couldn’t bring himself to repeat those sacred words just yet. He tightened his embrace, by way of
acceptance or apology, or perhaps both, but it didn’t matter. Kagome’s answering squeeze told him that she
understood, just as she always understood.
Even if understanding was
the last thing he deserved from her,
he thought with a flush of guilt.
“Looks like the rain’s
finally stopping,” he muttered uncomfortably, reluctant to end this precious
moment and yet suddenly not feeling worthy enough to continue it, no matter how
good, how right, she felt cradled in
his arms.
She slowly lifted her head
to gaze at the cave entrance, where a few drops of rain were still pattering
lightly onto the earth outside, and he didn’t miss the disappointment in her
eyes as she slowly untangled herself from his arms. “Guess we should keep looking for that
shard,” she whispered. “Maybe the storm
drove whatever’s carrying it into shelter, too, so we won’t have to look
far…” She stood on stiff muscles, feeling
the painful tingling in her backside and legs as the blood began to flow
through her veins again, and when Inuyasha gently held her waist to help steady
her, she shot him a grateful smile, conscious of the strong hands branding
their warmth into her sides. “Thanks,”
she half-whispered, suddenly feeling shy after such a heart-to-heart
conversation, one that was likely never to repeat itself, she thought
sadly. She would miss the utter peace
that was currently written on Inuyasha’s face; when they eventually met up with
their friends again everything would go back to normal and this would be
nothing but a memory. A very cherished
memory on her part, but perhaps a bit of a burden on his. She tossed him one last smile, a bit
wistfully, and turned to leave the cave, but a hand coming up to grip her own
stilled her movement, and she turned to face him again, slightly surprised.
She was even more surprised
when he drew her closer to him, his golden eyes as unwavering and serious as
she’d ever seen them when they locked onto her in a deep and penetrating
gaze. His free hand came up to softly
cup her face, his thumb caressing her cheek lightly, feeling it heat beneath
his touch in a soft blush. “I won’t
forget,” he told her quietly, as though he’d been able to read her mind, and
her blush deepened further. His smile
was soft as he gently raised her face toward his, warm breath ghosting against
her cheek, and she barely had time to realize what was about to happen, before
his lips were closing over her own in an infinitely tender kiss. She stood stock-still, too stunned to even
think of reacting, and yet as the kiss carried on—soft and slow and sweet—she
felt herself beginning to melt toward him, delighting in the feel of his lips
gently caressing her, like the softest, warmest velvet she’d ever had the
pleasure of touching.
Finally, he carefully broke
the kiss and drew away, leaving her dazed and bewildered and nearly giddy. His smile was loving, as were his eyes, as he
rested his forehead gently against her own and softly murmured four words which
held more meaning than anything else he could have told her.
“I’ll wait…for you.”
Her tremulous smile was
beautiful to behold as she gazed up at him through a mixture of tears and
relief. They turned together and stepped
out into the open air to continue onward with their search. Their fingers met and intertwined once again
as they drifted away from the shelter, a gentle embrace, content with what they
had shared, while those final words faded like a memory into the misting rain.
~~The End~~